


Black Mamba

by tostitos



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Cliche, Florist Hyunwoo, M/M, Piercings, Romance, Tattoo Artist Hyungwon, Tattoos, one day i'll post a longfic in full and you'll all be sorry, this is so bland there's nothing to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 18:35:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14526672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tostitos/pseuds/tostitos
Summary: In the two months since the empty shop a few lots down from Hyunwoo's flower shop become a tattoo parlor, he never really noticed who worked there. Funny, how it works out that as soon as Jooheon decides to get a tattoo, Hyunwoo suddenly finds himself running into the impassive tattoo artist everywhere.





	Black Mamba

**Author's Note:**

> a million years ago @clchaewon mentioned wanting a tattoo parlor/flower shop au showhyung w/ sweet florist hyunwoo on twt and this is me writing it and doing a bad job. please forgive me.
> 
> this is part 1 of idk how many because i'm not done writing but hopefully you enjoy it???
> 
> (also the jookyun might not be endgame and the rating might rise a little. depends on how i feel)

The twinkling bell above the door rings and Hyunwoo glances up with the shop phone pressed to his ear. In strides Jooheon with a bookbag weighing heavy on his shoulder and a broad, sunshine grin that Hyunwoo returns. On the other side of the line, he hears the gentleman on the phone ask him a question and he straightens up with a small exhale.

“Oh! We could definitely have it ready by Thursday morning, sir,” he answers as he looks down at the square of paper in front of him filled with messy yet readable notes of the desired ‘get well soon’ bouquet. There aren’t very many arrangements lined up for this week, a much appreciated lull in the usual chaos. “You can come and pick it up here or we can drive it out to you at an extra delivery cost.”

Penning another note when the customer says he will come to the store himself, Hyunwoo offers his thanks and politely ends the call. He returns the phone to the receiver on the hidden shelf carved beneath the surface of the counter.

Humming to himself, he taps the end of his pen on the countertop as he re-reads through the new order.

Spring is finally settling in, the air warm and some of the trees beginning to flower again, and with it comes all of the seasonal orders for graduations and proposals and other spring events. Sunny Delights doesn’t have the grandest of in-stock selections but out of the few flower shops in town, they do have a great amount of business and loyal customers. As much as Hyunwoo likes to point out that their popularity probably comes from being in a convenient area, tucked between a secondhand bookstore and a tax assistance office in a small shopping center, whenever Hoseok waxes poetic about the amount of love they put into every bouquet, their small staff of three does all enjoy their work and it shows.

Jooheon walks out from the tiny hallway leading to the bathroom and the closet where they keep their belongings, tying his lilac apron with Sunny Delights written across the chest.

“Where’s Hoseok?” He glances at the cat shaped clock hanging on the wall above Hyunwoo’s head and joins him behind the long stretch of counter. They keep a cork board of all the orders between the shelves of ribbon and other decorative supplies and he scans over the few pinned up before taking down one of the cuts of paper.

“He forgot to pick up our order of stationary from the print shop,” Hyunwoo explains the absence of their coworker, passing back the order he just wrote down with the request for Jooheon to put it up.

Jooheon chuckles. “Again?” He reads the order he chose, mouthing the details under his breath. “Are the flowers for the baby shower already conditioned?”

“Yeah, I did them last night. They’re in the back.”

As Jooheon leaves for the back room where they do all of the preparatory work, Hyunwoo returns to his own station along the counter.

If someone were to ask Hyunwoo if he thought he’d be working in a quaint flower shop when he was younger, he would have given them a confused smile and denied. He always saw himself as a simple nine to five office worker...maybe a teacher. But four years after graduating, here he is, a proud florist at Sunny Delights.

He picks up a white carnation and pairs it with baby’s breath, working on the small bouquet meant to be picked up in the next twenty or so minutes.

Jooheon returns from the back room with a square bucket full of various pale pink flowers and yellow flowers. He sets it down carefully at his own space and begins to spread out a few flowers to finish preparing them. “No one needs this many flowers for a baby shower.”

Hyunwoo laughs. “It’s a grand occasion. Let them be,” he says, even if he does kind of agree after spending so much time after hours trying to sort and condition the large order of three hundred flowers. It’s not their largest order, of course, but it was a lot when they got the call relatively last minute and it needs to be finished in the next two days.

“How was class?” he asks, glancing over at the university student who has just started his senior year.

Jooheon shrugs. “We’re just going over syllabi and stuff like that.” His voice tapers off and Hyunwoo waits for him to continue speaking. “I don’t know how I feel about going to one class, coming here for a couple hours, and then going back for the rest so I might change my schedule around.”

“That’s okay. Hoseok and I can handle it here in the mornings.”

“He might be the owner, but I don’t trust Hoseok with anything. I doubt the shop would get this far if you weren’t around.”

It’s all in jest. Hoseok does have quite the unfortunate memory, but the shop would be nothing without Hoseok’s passion and adoration for flora and Jooheon loves him as much as he makes fun of him.

Reaching across the counter, Hyunwoo chuckles and rips off a strip of green floral tape to wrap around the bottom of the stems. “You’re lucky he’s not here to hear that. He’d cry and then you’d cry and then you’d be crying together.”

Jooheon scoffs and turns up his nose. “I don’t cry.”

Hyunwoo clearly remembers needing to take the phone away from Jooheon a month ago when he got choked up writing down the heartfelt message a man wanted to have added to a bouquet for his wife. He lets Jooheon have his moment of macho manliness and finishes up the bouquet, wrapping the stems in a wet paper towel and tying a pretty plastic wrap around it.

The bell above the door chimes again.

“The guy with the glasses from the print shop — oh, hey, Jooheon! — the guy with the glasses’ attitude gets worse and worse every time I go there.” Hoseok, still in his Sunny Delights apron, lugs the packages of their stationary behind the counter and sits them on an open space on one of the back shelves.

“Probably because he’s tired of you showing up three days late or ten minutes before closing whenever we use their services,” Hyunwoo mumbles as Jooheon chirps back a friendly greeting.

Hoseok whirls around, lifting a finger covered in vibrant, neon band-aids and pointing it at Hyunwoo. “What was that?”

“He’s probably just a huge jerk.” Hyunwoo shrugs, placing his finished bouquet off to the side.

Hoseok narrows his eyes but he ultimately groans. “He _is._ Always looking at me like I’m an inconvenience. Oh! Are those for the baby shower?” He glances at Jooheon and his pout dissolves and stretches into a bright, starry-eyed grin.

Jooheon nods and Hoseok drifts into the back room for another armful of flowers.

“Complete madness without you, I swear,” Jooheon says when he’s out of earshot. There is a fond smile on his face that matches the one on Hyunwoo’s.

Hyunwoo and Hoseok met when they were in college, Hyunwoo a simple business student and Hoseok stressed and studying biology just for the sake of saying he has a degree. They took their florist certifications at the same time and two years ago, Hoseok mentioned wanting to open his own shop. In some way, Hyunwoo could be considered the co-owner but that isn’t official and he’s fine with that.

Hoseok returns and sets up at his own station. “I saw the concept pictures for the shower. It’s gonna be so beautiful!” he gushes, as he gets to work.

“Yeah, it absolutely will be,” Jooheon agrees. There’s an unsaid ‘but…’ at the end of his words but Hoseok is too enamored with the thought of celebrating newborns that he doesn’t pick up on it.

Hyunwoo contemplates going to get another batch of flowers for the shower that he knows are waiting, but instead he slumps over the counter and rests his chin in his propped up palm. He glances over when a customer walks in, offering her a small smile and a hello before she gets lost in the jungle of flowers they have on display on the other side of the small store.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Jooheon starts, looking down the stem of the flower in his hand before cutting it and slipping it back into the bucket. “Have either of you ever wanted a tattoo?”

“Nope,” Hyunwoo answers just as Hoseok reveals, “I have a few.”

Eyebrows rising, Jooheon looks at Hoseok. “Really?” His lips purse and he nods. “That’s...unexpected.”

Hoseok frowns, his face twisting in offense as it so easily does. “What do you mean ‘unexpected’?” He lifts his bandaged hands to make finger quotes.

“Nothing.” Jooheon waves him off but Hoseok doesn’t stop pouting at him. “I just assumed you wouldn’t like the pain or the needles or whatever.”

Hyunwoo pushes himself up when the woman from before approaches the register with three white tulips and moves to ring up her selection.

“Seems busy in here,” she makes small talk as Hyunwoo bundles her tulips. “Can’t believe I never noticed this place before. It’s so cute. And you don’t see a lot of flower shops with male employees.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I guess we’re one of a kind.” He asks if she wants to write a message and when she declines, he hands her the small bouquet.

She takes one of their business cards before she leaves, saying her daughter is performing in a school play and she’ll most likely be back to arrange something for that, and the three men chime out grateful goodbyes and come back soons.

“So, as I was saying, I’m thinking about getting a tattoo,” Jooheon says.

Hyunwoo looks at the clock, wondering when the person who ordered the bouquet he made a moment ago will come in.  “Of what?”

“I have some ideas but nothing I’m _really_ set on right now. Tattoo artists have books with their designs and stuff, right? I thought I’d go over and flip through them and see if there’s anything inspiring.”

“To Black Anaconda?” Hoseok asks.

“It’s Black Mamba,” corrects Hyunwoo.

The tattoo parlor, Black Mamba Tattoos and Piercings, opened up a few months ago in the open lot that used to be a nail salon. It was interesting to see the storefront gradually change from colorful designs on nails and toes to ones on arms and backs and legs. Fitting with most places like it, the shop features the typical overuse of the color black but while somewhat cliché in appearance, it’s not too much of a standout within the shopping center. Hyunwoo hasn’t paid too much attention, but in these last two months, he’s only ever run into one person who seems to work there — the kid Jooheon thinks is cute and is probably trying to impress.

“Yeah! They have some pictures on the front window and they look like they know what they’re doing.” Jooheon says. “And they have pretty good reviews on Google.”

Hyunwoo glances at the clock again and decides to get some flowers from the back. As he passes behind Jooheon, he pats him on the shoulder.

“If it’s something you really think you want to do, I say go for it.”

 

“Will you come with me to the tattoo place?” Jooheon asks at the end of the week, after they’ve sent off the arrangement for the baby shower and found themselves with more time.

Pausing in his watering of the flowers they have as decoration around the store, Hyunwoo looks back at the student loitering behind the counter. He then looks around him for whoever Jooheon is talking to.

They’re the only people in the store.

“Why do you need me to go? And wouldn’t it be better to ask Hoseok?”

Jooheon shrugs and plays with the long hanging ends of his apron ties. “You’re here at the moment and, I don’t know, I’m just kinda nervous.”

“Will you want me to hold your hand for you when you get the tattoo done too?” Hyunwoo teases, breaking into a warm laugh when Jooheon’s expression sours. “Calm down. I’ll go.”

When he finishes watering the flowers, he turns the open sign hanging on the door to closed and follows Jooheon to the tattoo parlor three shops down the row.

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he’s surprised to hear J. Cole playing over the speakers when they walk in. The interior is mostly black — black faux leather couches, black tables — but the walls and little things around are lined with pale green accents and there’s an obscene number of Funko Pop dolls scattered everywhere.

At the small front desk just inside the lobby sits a boy drowning in a soft white hoodie and mouthing the lyrics to the song as he sketches in a thick book. He peeks up through shaggy, grey hair at Hyunwoo and Jooheon in the doorway and his lips round in surprise.

“Hey!” The boy greets in a surprisingly deep voice, dropping his pencil to wave at them. He pops up from the chair behind the front counter and walks around it. “Welcome, welcome— oh, you’re from the flower shop, right.”

“Yeah,” Jooheon meeps in a small voice. He quickly clears his throat and Hyunwoo tries not to smile. “I wanted to have a tattoo done.”

The boy grins. “You _wanted_ or you _want_?”

“I want. I want to have a tattoo done.”

“Cool!” The boy glances behind him at the small hallway before walking behind the front desk. He pulls out two binders before rejoining them. “At the moment, Hyungwon is our only artist here but another one is moving here in a couple weeks and sent us some samples just in case you’re not in a rush and want to look through her portfolio too.” He hands Jooheon the portfolios and gestures for them to move to the couches.

Hyunwoo offers to take one of the portfolios and Jooheon hands him the thinner one on top. “Are you a piercer then?” he questions as he and Jooheon take seats.

The boy shakes his head with a laugh. “No, I’m a tattooist. Or, I will be when I finish my apprenticeship and get certified.”

“Tattoo artists do apprenticeships?” Jooheon mumbles under his breath, flipping open the thick binder.

“Wait, let me grab Hyungwon just in case. He doesn’t have any appointments until later. I’m Changkyun, by the way.”

Jooheon tries out the name and then offers Changkyun a smile. “Jooheon.” He points his thumb at Hyunwoo. “This is Hyunwoo.”

“Nice to meet you. I’ll be right back.”

Changkyun drifts down the small hallway and pokes his head into the first room on the left.

Hyunwoo glances over at the portfolio in Jooheon’s lap. His eyes widen at the beautiful sketches and photographs of all kinds of designs, ranging from mythical beings to animals to nature. What takes him is the vibrancy of the color in most of them, like they were oil paintings and not ink on skin.

“These are really good,” Hyunwoo comments.

“They’re fucking amazing,” Jooheon marvels.

“Thanks.”

Hyunwoo looks up as Jooheon all but jumps ten feet into the air beside him.

Walking toward them and scratching at the inside of his elbow is a tall, gangly thing with messy reddish hair and full lips accentuated by small silver bulbs at both corners. The sleeves of a thin, black turtleneck are pushed up his arms, revealing a world of color painted on the right and a lone barcode climbing vertically from his left wrist.

He reminds Hyunwoo of old candy your grandmother has had in her living room for twenty years — colorful and seeming as though it would break under your fingertips but obviously having some sort of resilience you never expected.

He stops at a respectable distance in front of them, looking down into his portfolio.

“So one of you is looking to get a tattoo?” His eyes slide up, settling on Hyunwoo for a moment before shifting to Jooheon.

Jooheon nods and lifts his hand. “Yeah, that’s me.”

One of Hyungwon’s brows raises but the shift is minuscule and his expression settles back into polite indifference so quickly, Hyunwoo can convince himself it never happened.

“First time?”

Jooheon nods again, a bashful smile bunching his cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”

Hyungwon gives him a once over. “A little.” He motions down to the portfolio in Jooheon’s lap. “Anyway, I guess I’ll do a small introduction about myself to start and then we can talk about what you’re looking for.”

Jooheon nods and looks down at the portfolio; Hyunwoo does not.

“I’ve been working professionally for the past,” Hyungwon clicks his tongue and counts on his fingers, “four and half years or so, specializing in neo-traditional and watercolor. Relatively new, I guess, but I trained and worked under one of the best artists on this side of the country. I’d brag about my skills, but you look like decent people and I’m not a complete prick. If—“

“You are one, though,” Changkyun chimes in.

Hyungwon side-eyes the kid, a fond sort of annoyance in his gaze. “No one asked for your input, brat. Get back to sketching.” He pushes Changkyun away and his apprentice cackles all the way back to the front desk.

Hyungwon huffs and runs long fingers through his hair. “Anyway, if you have any questions about my work or worries or anything, I’d be glad to help you out.”

His eyes shift to Hyunwoo, one of his thick brows rising. “They didn’t hurt as much as you’d think.”

Hyunwoo blinks and realizes he was touching the corner of his mouth. He drops his hand to his lap, accidentally slamming his knuckles into the hard, outer shell of the other portfolio. He hisses and shakes out his hand as embarrassment spills into his ears.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, bowing his head. Flipping open the absent tattooist’s folder, he pretends to be more interested in the sketches and pictures.

Hyungwon shrugs. “You’re not the first person to react like that. I’m used to it,” he says plainly. “It’s been three months since I moved here and some of the people who live around my neighborhood still clutch their bags when they see me. And don’t even get me started on the old ladies who try to scold me about ruining ‘such a nice face’.”

Hyunwoo can see where they’re coming from. He doesn’t think anything of the piercings except for fascination (and a bit of horror thinking about the pain that he’s sure must have been worse than Hyungwon is claiming) but, objectively, the tattoo artist does have a very ‘nice’ face. It’s soft, without any of the ruggedness he’d expect from someone in this profession.

Beside him, Jooheon sits up. “I, um, brought some drawings. They’re not fully completed ideas or anything so I was hoping you could give me a little input?”

“Yeah, of course.” Hyungwon tilts his head to the side. “We can go back to my room and I could do some quick sketches if you want?”

Jooheon hides it well, but he perks up like a puppy hearing his owner pull into the driveway when Changkyun grabs his sketchbook to follow them.

There’s a room across the hall from Hyungwon’s and the tattoo artist drifts in, leaving Hyunwoo and Jooheon to look on from the outside.

Sitting at a tall, mirrored shelf is a shock of white-blond hair lying face down in folded arms. Hyunwoo blinks when Hyungwon, a hand slipped casually into the front pocket of his light grey jeans, stomps his foot into one of the back legs of the tall, white stool. The stool skids into the wall and the blond jerks awake, falling out of it.

”Go work the front desk,” Hyungwon orders, watching the blond hold himself up on the shelf top even as his legs crumple beneath him.

Impossibly dark eyes glare sleepily at Hyungwon. “I will shove a needle straight down your urethra.”

“Save the bedroom talk for when there aren’t clients around.” He extends a hand to help the blond stand. “Changkyun is shadowing me. Look alive.”

The blond waves his hand as he yawns. “Yeah yeah.”

“Is it safe for him to be so tired on the job?”

Hyunwoo glances over at Jooheon to see him murmuring to Changkyun and casting unsure looks at Hyungwon and the white blond.

The blond stretches his arms over his head, shirt lifting to show a sliver of unmarked skin. He fits better into the aesthetic of the shop with a ring hanging from his nose and over a silver bulb poked through his philtrum, ears littered with piercings, and sharp eyes that look to be in a permanent glare.

Jooheon flinches when those eyes land on him and the blond snorts.

“Relax, kid. I don’t bite unless I’m paid,” he says in a gravelly voice as he walks past them to the lobby.

Rolling his eyes, Hyungwon walks into the room directly across the hall with the white stool from the blond’s room. Changkyun lets Hyunwoo and Jooheon enter first before closing the door behind them.

“Who was that?” Jooheon asks.

Changkyun chuckles. “Minhyuk. Our piercer. He’s not as bad as he looks.”

Hyunwoo finds himself looking around the room painted a wine color. Against the center of the far wall is a wooden, black-painted desk with a soft cushioned chair. Hyungwon places the stool beside it and motions for Jooheon to take the better chair as he sits. “Have a seat and show me what you got.”

Hyunwoo’s phone beeps and buzzes in his pocket as Jooheon digs out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

“Is there a reason no one is at the store?” Hoseok asks in lieu of a greeting.

Moving the phone away from his ear, Hyunwoo takes a brief look at the time. “Sorry, I’m with Jooheon at the tattoo parlor. I’ll come back over.”

Jooheon whips around and stares him down with wide eyes.

Hyunwoo shrugs and offers Jooheon an apologetic grin. “You’ll be fine.” He glances over at Hyungwon.

The tattooist looks between him and Jooheon under unimpressed, lidded eyes, twirling a pencil between his fingers effortlessly. His gaze settles on Hyunwoo and something about it makes the florist rethink his reassuring words as his stomach flops.

“Lucky for you, we haven't had any missed calls,” Hoseok is saying into Hyunwoo’s ear, snapping him out of a staring contest with the tattoo artist.

Running his tongue over his bottom lip, Hyunwoo motions at the door with his thumb. “It was...nice to meet you?” He starts to backpedal his way out. “Take your time, Jooheon.”

Hyungwon watches him for a second longer before turning back to his actual potential client. “So, what is it you brought?”

At least Changkyun and Jooheon wave.

 

Mornings are rough.

They’re especially rough after a long night of waiting for a new order to come in, the delivery late because of an unfortunate accident on the highway. That’s the reason for Hyunwoo’s quick inhale when he randomly turns around while in line at the Starbucks on the other end of the shopping center and finds Hyungwon right behind him staring above his head at the menu board, thick framed glasses slipping down his nose.

The breeze is a little chilly in the early morning, rain in the air, and Hyungwon is drowning in a logoless black hooded sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his head. Somehow being encased in black darkens his eyes and makes him appear more intimidating that he did when Hyunwoo met him in the tattoo parlor.

“You wear glasses,” Hyunwoo blurts out awkwardly, feeling like he has to speak after noticing the other man despite Hyungwon’s lack of reaction to his gasp.

“Keen observation,” mumbles Hyungwon in response, not taking his eyes off the menu.

Clearing his throat, Hyunwoo nods and turns back around to follow the tired shuffle up to the counter. He tugs at the zipper of his jacket, feeling warm.

He doesn’t know why the tattooist makes him uncomfortable. Maybe he really is bothered by his cheek piercings — dahlia piercings is what Google said when he looked them up — after all. Like one of those old ladies Hyungwon talked about. People always did say Hyunwoo was an old soul.

After ordering a cafe latte with an extra shot of espresso and shuffling down the line to wait for his drink, Hyunwoo finds his eyes drifting back toward Hyungwon sliding money over the counter.

He has something of a casual slouch, like he’s still loading up and can’t be bothered with holding himself straight. Actually, everything about him is lazy – from his eyes that are the size of the moon but are always waning instead of full to his unhurried movements to the bored drawl of his speech.

“You like to stare,” Hyungwon says when he turns to join the waiting Hyunwoo. He slides his compact wallet into his back pocket. Raising a thick eyebrow, he leans against the tall wall of the barista bar.

Hyunwoo opens his mouth to protest before acknowledging that Hyungwon is correct. He rubs at the back of his neck. “Sorry. You work so close but I’ve never seen you around before the day before yesterday. I guess I was kinda surprised.”

Hyungwon eyes him with something in his gaze that Hyunwoo can’t read.

“Cafe latte with an extra shot?”

Perking up at the call of his order, Hyunwoo turns to take the cup from the barista with a smile. There’s a flower with a smiley face drawn on the side of the cardboard sleeve. Chuckling, Hyunwoo glances up and raises the cup in a show of thanks.

Hyungwon’s hot americano is finished soon after and the barista’s smile takes on a slight strain. Hyungwon takes the cup with a mumbled thanks and walks past Hyunwoo without a second glance.

Heading to the door makes Hyunwoo feel like he’s following the other man but there’s nothing he can do; they’re going in the same direction. So, he walks a few steps behind as they cross the parking lot.

He doesn’t notice Hyungwon slowing down until they’re almost in line with one another.

“Can I ask you a question?” Hyungwon suddenly inquires, lips pressed along the mouth of his cup’s cap even if his coffee is too hot to drink.

Surprised, Hyunwoo hums before his brain can tell his voice to wait so it can process a little more.

Ignorant of Hyunwoo’s internal confusion, Hyungwon continues. “Does that kid really want a tattoo?”

Hyunwoo glances over at the other man. “Jooheon?”

Hyungwon makes a noise of affirmation in his throat.

“He said he does,” Hyunwoo replies, not bothering to mention Jooheon’s minor crush on the tattooist’s apprentice. He doesn't really think Jooheon would go as far to mark himself just to appeal to someone. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t want to waste my time on someone who’s gonna lie in my chair, burst into tears as soon as he sees the tattoo machine, and then run out the door,” Hyungwon says. His voice doesn’t have any inflection for Hyunwoo to get a read on him.

But Jooheon is the younger brother he would have liked to have if he wasn’t an only child and protectiveness sweeps through him nonetheless.

“Do you talk about all of your clients behind their backs like this?”

“Usually I’d say it to their face but he was already overwhelmed so I figured I’d spare him the stress.”

Hyunwoo stops walking. Hyungwon takes another three steps before sighing and turning himself around to look at Hyunwoo. There’s clear exasperation in his eyes. It makes Hyunwoo’s frown deepen.

“Are you really upset that I’m worried about your friend possibly not being one hundred confident in getting a tat done?” Hyungwon asks before Hyunwoo can open his mouth.

Sighing, Hyunwoo shakes his head. “You could say it with maturity instead of like a kid working his first job.”

“I could have,” Hyungwon tips his cup back and takes his first sip of his coffee, licking over his lips for spillage after, “but I’m currently not on the clock.”

The excuse almost makes Hyunwoo roll his eyes but he refrains. Hyungwon had seemed to have a rather nonchalant attitude during the consultation but he still held a level of professionalism so Hyunwoo didn’t think much of it. Then again, Hyunwoo had left early to go back to the flower shop and Jooheon stayed behind alone for the next twenty or so minutes. Maybe once he gets comfortable, Hyungwon’s lips also loosen.

Hyunwoo can’t judge him off of age when he doesn’t know how old he is. But he _does_ look young and four years in a profession doesn’t mean much in any field and especially not when tattooists can start at eighteen. Hyunwoo wouldn’t be surprised if Hyungwon is younger than his own twenty six years, but the tattooist could also have wonderful genes.

“But you’re talking about one of your clients. It’s a work related conversation.”

Hyungwon, obviously, has no problem with rolling his eyes. “Look,” he sighs and scoops his fringe off his forehead with his free hand, holding it atop his head for a few seconds before letting go and letting his arm drop to his side, “it’s seven in the morning, I slept on the couch at the parlor instead of going home last night, and I’m super fucking tired. I’m sorry that you’re this sensitive but, at the end of the day, you still haven’t answered my question so I’m going to assume that you don’t know and I ask that you check with Jooheon so he doesn’t waste time I could use on someone else or end up getting permanent ink that he doesn’t actually want.”

Hyungwon pivots on his heels. Over his shoulder he tosses back, “Have a nice day,” as he walks away, his earlier lazy shuffle strengthening into an annoyed strut.

 

“Was I overreacting?”

“Hyunwoo, that's the third time you've asked and I still have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hoseok says, snapping Hyunwoo out of his robotic daze.

It's been a few hours since the sudden confrontation with Hyungwon and Hyunwoo has run it over one or two (hundred) times in his mind. Is he supposed to be annoyed that Hyungwon was annoyed at him for not wanting to hear the tattooist talk down about Jooheon? Was Hyungwon right? Were they both?

Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, Hyunwoo chews on the flesh thoughtfully. The more he thinks about it, the more stupid the whole argument — was it an argument? — is. He doesn’t want to say Hyungwon’s wording was acceptable, because it wasn’t, and neither was him coming to Hyunwoo instead of voicing his concerns with Jooheon himself, but they didn’t need to end on that note. Hyunwoo could have let the tattooist’s poor attitude slide and be the bigger person. That would have been the adult thing to do. Hyungwon surely wasn’t acting like one.

Releasing his lip, Hyunwoo whirls around and walks over to the order board. Hoseok is already finishing up the biggest order they received that week and so he searches for something else to busy himself with.

“Are you not going to tell me what's bothering you?” Hoseok asks, glancing over his shoulder as his fingers pause in their meticulous work.

Hyunwoo grunts a meaningless sound. “No, it's nothing.”

Hoseok gives a disbelieving hum. “Did you miss the part where I said you asked if you were exaggerating three times? That doesn't sound like nothing to me.”

“It's really not important.” There’s a bouquet of a dozen roses being picked up the next day. Usually, he would wait to do something so stress-free but he can put it in the fridge to hold until it's time for the customer to pick it up. He needs to keep busy. “Did Jooheon seem like he didn't really want a tattoo to you?” Hyunwoo asks, trying to change the subject. He takes down the order note.

“Did you say something to Jooheon about that and it didn't go well?”

Walking around Hoseok, Hyunwoo shakes his head. “I said it wasn't important. This is a different topic,” he says, telling a half lie.

Hoseok hums again and Hyunwoo drifts around the shop to where the roses are to pick a dozen.

“Well, is there a reason you're wondering?” Hoseok questions.

“I ran into the tattoo artist and he asked.”

“Oh, Hyunseung?”

Hyunwoo pricks his finger on a thorn at the upper end of the stem and hisses. He carefully arranges the roses in one arm and pinches the pad of his middle finger, squeezing out a drop of blood. “It's Hyungwon,” he mumbles as he returns to their work station.

Hoseok pauses and looks up, brows furrowed and mouth set in a pout. “Isn't that what I said?”

Clicking his tongue, Hyunwoo sets down the bundle of roses.

“Anyway, I didn't think Jooheon was unsure when he asked the other day but who knows. It’s nice that the artist asked you, though.”

“Is it?” Hyunwoo carefully plucks a leaf off the stem that ended up below the water line and starts to align the roses. In his peripherals, he sees Hoseok shrug.

“I’m sure he would have asked Jooheon if he was around. And he must have a reason for his suspicion. You know how Jooheon likes to act big. That's what you went over there for, right? To be the parental figure?”

Hyunwoo didn't know why we accompanied Jooheon then and he doesn't know why when he thinks about it now. He left before he could lend any help but, at the same time, he doesn't know if he would have if he stayed. Jooheon said he wanted advice on his design but Hyunwoo hadn't seen it before and with two tattoo artists in the room, what would have there been for him to say that would be more valuable than the advice from a professional and a trainee in the field.

In the end, going to Black Mamba hadn't resulted in anything for Hyunwoo except a perplexing need to research lip piercings.

Glancing at his rose arrangement, Hyunwoo halts his wandering thoughts long enough to wonder if he should bother wrapping the roses in decorative foil now or simply leave them in the storage fridge. He rips off a piece of tape and taps his finger along the sticky side and sighs. “I guess you're right.”

**Author's Note:**

> it's 4AM and i really hope i edited all of my notes out because i can't read rn hahahaha rip  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/monstazet)|[blr](http://at-tostitos.tumblr.com)|[cc](https://curiouscat.me/tosties)


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